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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166793">Where There Is Water</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterIsNinja/pseuds/WriterIsNinja'>WriterIsNinja</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Children of Earth Compliant, Fae &amp; Fairies, Gen, Goddesses, Immortal Ianto Jones, Not Children of Earth Compliant, Series 03 Fix-It: Children of Earth (Torchwood)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:33:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterIsNinja/pseuds/WriterIsNinja</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Six-year-old Ianto Jones meets a Goddess. She Curses him, or Blesses him: the choice, in that, is his. You see, the worst part of it all is the choice in whether or not to use a thing.</p><p>Only Death can pay for Life. But will the death he pays be his?</p><p>A choice.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ianto Jones &amp; Original Female Character(s), Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Lisa Hallett/Ianto Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Where There Is Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her hair is deep burgundy, so red it’s almost purple, in a way that can’t be gotten out of a bottle quite yet – so it must be natural, her eyes dark like a Welsh Blue Poppy, dress liquid like honey and colored sunshine with printed flowers in varying shades of off-white like old love letters. She sees the boy – a quiet boy, drawing. The quiet ones are always so interesting, especially ones with the artistic flare, so she <em>Looks</em>.</p><p>Very few beings can mentally search through the time stream without going mad, even fewer without a catalyst like the Time Vortex. Time Lords – arrogant lot – think Seers merely a theory, an impossible one. They are wrong, and most often occur in part-humans and the shorter-lived species who need <em>know</em>. They don’t occur in modern Time Lords because they don’t <em>want</em> to know; they think they already <em>do</em>. As she said, arrogant, not that many of her own kind aren’t. Many greats have a Touch of the Sight. Many unknowns have the Full of it.</p><p>Ianto Jones gives up art for sport, because his Father thinks art is for ‘sissies and the unemployed’. A pity: he’s talented, in that regard. Smarter than he lets on, too, but the school systems on this planet are universally awful for emotive development, even the ones best for memory and intellectual development. Secondary schools in the Americas, in fact, were put in place to imprison a person not yet old enough to work by current societal standards, partially based on actual prisons and partially on insane asylums. Nasty business, that, for a teacher such as herself. A curious one, so curious. She likes them curious. What teacher (what good teacher, rather) doesn’t?</p><p>Brave, too, though that doesn’t matter so much. There are plenty of interesting or even kindly cowards out there, and that’s a nature sort of thing rather than one of nurture. No, the important thing is that he ends up in adventure. Not to seek it out, though the knowledge fascinates him, but for love. For love of Lisa Hallett (pretty woman) after Torchwood One, and for love of his team after Harkness leaves with his Doctor, becoming a field agent. Neither of them interest her, beyond the insult of this Doctor calling Harkness ‘Wrong’ for his immortality, a word that echoes through time. She has seen many immortals – those Chosen, usually those that can cope with it, or designed for such by birth. Some are born, some are made, and some are not meant for forever. Some, like Harkness, cope badly. He is not of interest, besides his new sort of immortality. New things are always interesting.<em> Interesting</em>, not Wrong. There is always a Genesis, though not always a second.</p><p>No, Ianto Jones is the interest. He is so… human. Human in a way that many humans aren’t, trying so hard to be flawless. Ianto understand flaws as character, as a good thing, which is so very <em>rare</em>. Though not always in time to save a relationship, he eventually forgives such things as… well, human. Cruel and kind in equal measure, that, when most don’t want to acknowledge their humanity, but then all things living are both kind and cruel alike. It is the water in them, she thinks, rather than the stardust. All things that flow can be life-giving. All things that flow can pull you under to your death. So, so utterly human, Ianto Jones, when so many humans… aren’t that. She has met his like, in various shapes and species and personalities, but rarely. Rarely enough to count.</p><p>And an immortal lover.</p><p>She flows forward just enough to catch the boy’s attention.</p><p>"Are you a Faerie?” he blinked, so serious.</p><p>“No, and pray you never meet one, Ianto Jones,” she smiled quickly. “The Fair Folk are utterly fair, as in their name, but rarely kind.”</p><p>“How is fair not kind?” the child blinked.</p><p>“In a child’s understanding, it would be,” she admitted. “Now only death can pay for life, so would it be fair if someone gave their life for your sister?”</p><p>“I suppose,” he nodded.</p><p>“And what if you made a deal, Ianto Jones, and that person wasn’t aware they were giving their life for your sister?” she demanded. “A life for a life is still fair, but is it kind, then?”</p><p>“Oh,” he blinked.</p><p>“They’re like slippery businessmen, the Fair Folk, very literal when they hold you to your deals even when they know you meant it figuratively,” she nodded her agreement. “Pray you never give your full name to one. It’s why middle names came into being, you know. They’ll say it’s population growth, but it’s to have a name to keep from the Fae. If you meant the Tylwyth Teg,” she smiled, “I’m not that sort either. They are playful, like children. They’re also cruel, like children.” They shared a look. “Yes, you know how cruel children can be. Stones in your pocket and as all the old stories say, for them. I am a teacher goddess by choice, my boy, a water goddess by nature. My name is lost to time, and should stay that way. Naming beings can invoke them, and all things are both kind and cruel. Do not mistake me for a thing more kind than not. The things out of old stories rarely are.”</p><p>“Oh,” Ianto blinked again. “Are you here to teach me a lesson, then? Have I… done something to offend you?”</p><p>“You rarely offend unless you meant to, Ianto Jones,” she chuckled, pushing her hair behind her ear. “No, I am here to warn you, to give you a Blessing. But I am cruel, Ianto Jones, as the water is, dark and deep and ancient and life-giving.</p><p>This is my warning: you will lose her, though Death is not loss but kindness. Utterly human and unable to let go to give in to grief, you will try anyway. You will love again after her.</p><p>Your sister is utterly selfish, wanting you to hold on to someone who pushes you away because they don’t want you. When she has children, try again anyway, knowing she is selfish, is<em> human</em>. Not for her, Ianto Jones, but for <em>them</em>.</p><p>And when you walk into the House of the Dead, in the time before, I give you a choice to accept my Curse. All Blessings are Curses and the same is true in reverse: don’t let any ever tell you different, Ianto Jones. And before you walk into the House of the Dead on the day the things that speak through children come, you have a choice for all that.”</p><p>Her hand stretches out, a bottle of salt water appearing as if it has always been – and maybe it has. Her hair blows in a wind that doesn’t exist, so she uses her left to tuck hair behind her ear again.</p><p>“This will give you what you never sought, and it is for the fact that you accept it that I offer it to you. Where there is water, there is Life. But only death can pay for life. I will not say that it is yours, for you decide if the risk is worth the price.” Her eyes blaze like the deepest of oceans he has never seen. “Many things in your life are fixed, the things I chose to See. Your ending is not one of them. Keep it close and drink all or none, for the cruelest things of all in this world are knowledge and choice.”</p><p>The choice is his and his alone, so she walks away, flowing into the water on the wind like a thing of mist. She does not check his timeline again. Much more interesting to wait linearly and check then whether he's spewing up water. To be honest, she doesn't care if he chooses to possibly kill someone saving himself, or possibly pay with his own death, never knowing which. Water takes and it gives. She doesn't care <em>what</em> he chooses, but seeing the choice will be <em>interesting</em> as so few things are these days.</p><p>Now to find a good book. Books are easy to find, good ones not so much.</p>
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